


Cry No More

by almostphunni



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Castiel, Case Fic, Destiel - Freeform, Jealous Castiel, M/M, Not Happy, Short Chapters, Sirens, angry destiel, diner, do not read if you want to be happy, first fic, idk what else, lots of chapters though, not an au, regular case, regular universe, sad destiel, sadness?, this came to me in a dream, this is a sad fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostphunni/pseuds/almostphunni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas, Sam and Dean are working a case, and Sam is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> this fanfic came to me in a dream, i thought i was watching a new episode... then i woke up. ((also my first fanfiction, so dont hate me ok))

“Hey Cas, you seen Sam this morning?” Dean jogged up behind Cas, standing in the motel parking lot. In one hand, Dean had a breakfast burrito, freshly microwaved. In his other hand, his cellphone.  
“No, Dean.”  
“Do you think he got lucky last night?” Dean snickered. He bit off a huge chunk of his burrito and started chewing it.  
“Dean, I-,” Cas started, pulling his eyebrows together and frowning at Dean.  
“Was a joke, Cas” Dean said, his voice muffled by the huge portion of food in his mouth.  
Cas shifted his gaze to the sky, turning away from Dean, who shrugged, tearing off another large piece of burrito.  
“I think we should look for Sam,” said Cas. He squinted at the rising sun, coming up over the horizon.  
Cas was dressed in his normal attire, minus the trench coat. They were posing as FBI agents and according to Dean, his trench coat made him look less “FBI-y”. Without it, he felt rather naked. His coffee black hair was standing up every which way, even though he never slept.  
“Nah, let the kid have his space.” said Dean, chewing loudly. With a cartoonish gulp, he swallowed the burrito. “So, what do you think we’re up against?”  
“I think it’s angels.” Cas said with a grimace. Dean rolled his eyes.  
“You always think it’s angels.”  
“It always IS angels, Dean. Got any better ideas?”  
“Well, the missing people were all male, late twenties to early thirties, average to wealthy, unhappily married and single. I think we got ourselves a siren.”  
“No, Dean. I believe we’re being, as you would say, played.” said Cas, using air quotes around “played.”  
“Twenty bucks.”  
“What?”  
“Twenty bucks says it’s a siren.”  
“I do not have any money, Dean.” replied Cas flatly.  
“You’re just mad because you know I’m right,” taunted Dean with a smile.  
“We don’t have time for this, Dean.”  
“C’mon Cas, live a little,” he pushed.  
“Fine. I will give you twenty dollars if it is a siren,” sighed Cas as he watched Dean punch the air with a smirk.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (((A/N i'm going to do really short chapters and update frequently, sorry if that isnt your thing.))))

Dean eyed the clock on the wall. The hour hand was lazily moving closer to the four. They had gone to a local diner for lunch, before diving into some more research. His eyes followed the second hand as it clicked.  
“Here’s a double bacon cheeseburger with all the fixin’s for you,” the waitress for their booth appeared with their order. She placed the burger in front of Dean, who flashed a smile at her and winked. She smiled back and turned to Cas. “Black coffee for you, anything else?”  
“No, thank you. This is good.” Cas said, his eyes focusing on the cars driving past the diner.  
“Alrighty then, I’ll leave you fellas to it.” As the waitress walked away, Dean eyed her skirt and smirked. Once she had disappeared back into the kitchen, Dean looked up at Cas, still staring out the window. Without shifting his gaze Cas said,  
“It’s almost four in the afternoon.”  
“Yeah, it is. And?” Dean replied.  
“Where is Sam?” Dean instinctively checked his cellphone, grabbing it out of his pocket.  
“He hasn’t called or texted me,” he paused, “I have no clue where he is.” Shifting his shoulders forward anxiously, he drew a sharp breath. Sam always called. Always. Two or three at the latest, telling Dean that he wasn’t in trouble and rubbing in that he got some and Dean didn’t. Dean looked at his burger, the sweet smell of onions and bacon wafting towards Dean’s nose, but Dean wasn’t hungry anymore. He stood up, took two twenties out of his wallet and left them on the table, and said,  
“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to update a lot, so stay tuned. like 4 or 5 times a day until i'm done, js.


	3. Three

"Mmmmuurrmmphh," Sam awoke with a start, in an extremely small, dark room. He couldn't move, rope binding him to a metal chair. The dull ache of his skin becoming raw from the bounds was becoming increasingly more apparent.  
He tried grabbing for the knife he kept in his shoe for occasions just like this, but it was straining to move more than half an inch, let alone down to his ankle. Pulling on the rope just tightened the binding around chest, making his breathing hard and unstable. It was too much. He relaxed against the chair for a second, releasing the tension against his ribcage. Sweat pooled on Sam's forehead and he tried to take deep breaths to put his lungs at ease, but the cloth in his mouth blocking sound from escaping also limited the amount of air he could take in.  
Then footsteps.  
He stopped breathing. Whoever was out there was probably the one who put him in the dark room in the first place. Sam's knees were pressed up against the door because the room was too small to fit him. Must be a closet. The footsteps stopped.  
He pretended to still be unconscious as the closet door opened. Light seeped through his eyelids. There was too much light for it all to be artificial.  
"If it's daytime... then I've been here longer than I thought." Sam's mind tried to recall details of what he could remember.  
There was a bar. After a few too many drinks, there was also a girl. After that, all he could make out was colors and blurry shapes. Then nothing. There was no other memory. He couldn't even remember the girl's face.  
"Sam Winchester," a female voice said, cooly. Even with his eyes closed, he could tell she was smiling. He continued pretending to sleep. The voice was perhaps one he had heard in the bar. It had a certain familiarity to it. Without waiting for a response, the woman walked towards him. She ended up so close to him he could feel the warmth of her skin, merely a fraction of an inch away. She whistled while she made sure his bounds were tight enough and then she took a step back. Sam almost breathed a sigh of relief, catching himself before giving himself away.  
"Sam Winchester," she repeated. He listened to her heels clicking as she left the closet. The door began to shut.  
He opened his eyes right as the last bits of daylight were leaving.  
Then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was extremely late, i got distracted.


	4. Four

The Electrik Bar. Sigh.  
As he and Cas finished confirming with the bartender that Sam was definitely here, he couldn't help but laugh to himself.  
"Is something funny, Dean?" Cas stopped, midstride.  
"Yes- uh no."  
"I don't understand."  
"I just think it's funny that Sam saw a place called the 'Electrik Bar' with a 'k' instead of a 'c', and decided that this would be a good place to hang out."  
"I still don't-" Cas started, frowning in confusion.  
"Nevermind," Dean said. He sat down on a barstool and told Cas to do the same.  
"Dean, now we are in a bar called 'Electrik' with a 'k', is this not a good place to hang out?" Cas began to stand up, but Dean grabbed the sleeve of his suit jacket, pulling him back into the seat.  
"We need to find out what took him, and whatever took him was at this bar."  
Cas went silent. Dean watched as bartender flipped and mixed and tossed and spun drinks in almost a dance-like state. She glanced at him and he winked at her. She poured the drink into the customer's cup and made her way towards Dean.  
"What's your poison?" She asked cordially, smiling ear to ear. She gestured to the wall of alcohol behind her.  
He smiled and said "Just gimme the good stuff."  
Out from under the bar, she pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured Dean a glass.  
"Thanks," he winked again.  
She rested her arms on the bar counter, leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I get off at 1."  
He grinned at her as she walked away to serve others drinks. She offered to serve Cas, but he refused.  
Dean started, "So, if what we're looking for is a siren, then it could honestly be anyone," he looked around, just as a fat bald guy walked into his field of vision. "Except that dude," he pointed. The man he was pointing at didn't notice; he was too drunk to care.  
"It could be her," Cas said, nodding his head towards the bartender.  
"Oh god, I hope not," said Dean.

**Author's Note:**

> more to come soon!


End file.
